


A bond stronger than blood

by paupotter_4869



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV), Thirteen Reasons Why - Jay Asher
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Brothers, Having each other's backs, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Saving Each Other, a few lines of comfort, completely platonic, early in s2 i'd hoped there might be a clay/justin thing but well the brothers storyline was gold, jensen brothers, not much else really, protecting each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:54:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22377541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paupotter_4869/pseuds/paupotter_4869
Summary: One-shot. Set during ep 3x07. After being interrogated by the police, Clay argues with his parents. This is set right after this one conversation, where Justin finds Clay in the room. He comforts him and somehow manages to convince him to go to school.I finally got around watching s3 and I know I'm late to the party, but I wanted to share this with you all !
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	A bond stronger than blood

**Author's Note:**

> Last week I finally got around watching s3 and I realize I'm kinda late to the party, but Clay and Justin's dynamic was one of the things I was looking forward to the most this season, and albeit we profusely -- their time together was one of the best things of the season, IMO-- I sort of felt like this scene could do with a few more lines, having Justin comforting Clay after the police's interrogation and then the discussion with his parents.  
> All credit to author Jay Asher and Netflix.

“I was his secret once. You know that. He took me out of the streets, he saved my life. He helped me behind your backs, because I had, literally, nowhere else to go.” 

“Justin,” Lainie interjects. “We’re proud of what Clay did back then, and we’re beyond exultant to have you in our family, but you must understand, now we’re talking about--” 

“I know, I know,” Justin says, barely able to meet Lainie’s or Matt’s eyes at all. “There’s so much at stake. All I’m saying is, you can trust him to do the right thing now, too.” 

Lainie sighs in exasperation at that answer, leaning back on her chair. She wishes so much they could trust Clay and Justin, but it’s beyond the trust a mother can give her child, now, and Clay’s making it very difficult for her and Matt to protect the family. Matt reaches out a hand to caress her arm in a fruitless gesture to reassure her. 

“Alright. We’re going to give you boys some space here,” he settles, warm voice. “But if anything else happens, if you need help for anything at all, you come to us, okay?” 

“Yeah,” nods Justin. “Let me talk to him.” 

He stands from his seat and leaves the kitchen before Lainie or Matt can come up with any more inquiries he couldn’t possibly give an answer to, or before he crumbles and he comes clean about everything he knows--him and Jessica, Tyler, him not being strong enough to remain clean, in spite of everything Matt and Lainie have given him. . . It could be a disaster, so he better leave before it happens. He walks out of the back door and crosses the back garden, but stops before he reaches his and Clay’s room. 

This is too much, Justin sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it all stand out in different directions. It was hard and stressful enough finding about Bryce’s disappearance and consequential death, but now that Clay is being suspected by the police, it’s just getting out of hand. 

The police having that footage of Clay, from that night at Bryce’s. . . Shit, they should have thought about it. The Bryce Justin got to know right before his death, the guy he’d become after transferring to Hillcrest, he probably would have stopped his father before handing the CCTV footage to the police. Or maybe he could have deleted all that footage before it got to the police. 

But, of course, Bryce could do neither those things, for someone killed him before he got the chance to do so. And now the police have more than enough reasons to suspect Clay, even though Justin believes they did OK with their alibies and stories. They just don’t know Clay. 

“Fuck!” Justin scowls, clasping his hands tightly, sinking his nails into his skin so hard that he’ll get bruises at the very least, maybe even scratches. His hands are shaking, his mind is going blank--he’s aching for a fix. He wishes he could just find a sweet and temporal escape from everything that’s happened since they heard about Bryce’s death. Or maybe since the homecoming game. Spring Fling. His time in the streets. Hannah’s death and tapes. Jessica and Bryce. . . There’s so much he wishes he could leave behind and forget, but Justin knows he’ll always carry it all with him, it’ll be his baggage for life. Up until now, having Clay and his folks has helped him. . . But he doesn’t know how much they can take, or how much of all this he can take. 

Right now, however, there’s someone else who needs him more. He braces himself and takes a deep breath of air before stepping into the room--which also qualifies as an apartment in itself, really. 

Justin had expected to find an upset and worried Clay, who’d maybe refuse to go to school or to talk things out at all, but what he finds is ten times worse than his fears. Clay vented out the events of this morning with everything they own in their room. He’s thrown dishes, comics, books, notebooks, pieces of clothing, and everything he came across with all over the beds and the floor--and after he was done getting that rage out of his system, he just fell on the floor, without the energy to destroy anything else, or clean up after himself. Out of air, in despair, Justin finds him sitting there, shoulders dropped, staring at nothing with an angered look on his eyes. 

“Holy shit,” Justin says, looking around. “Your side looks like my side.” 

Clay shrugs as if he didn’t care--but oh, he does care, so much, that it hurts his soul. That’s why he took it out on the room. “They talk to you about me?” 

“Yeah. I didn’t say anything,” Justin reassures him. Clay’s secrets are safe with him, just as his secrets are safe with Clay. That’s how it works between them. He knows Clay’s been the best brother he’s ever had. 

“How does it feel?” Clay asks. 

“What?” 

“Being the good kid.” 

“Dude,” scoffs Justin, shaking his head in disbelief. _How can he even think like that?_ He gets these amazing grades, doesn’t do drugs, doesn’t drink, doesn’t skip class, would do--and has done--everything for his friends, and the few things he does keep from his parents it's on his friends’ behalf. “Come on. I’m on your side.” 

“Whatever,” Clay shrugs again. 

Knowing that Clay’s just fed up with everything and that arguing will lead to nothing right now, Justin gives them both a few seconds to breathe and sits on his bed--which, for once since he moved in, is in better shape than Clay’s. Resting the elbows on his knees, he leans forward and asks the question he hasn’t had a chance to ask until now, for Matt and Lainie came to fetch them at the police station and have been berating Clay since then, until a couple of minutes ago. 

“What did the cops say to you?” 

_Oh, not again._ Not like Jess, and Hannah, and who knows how many others, begs Justin when Clay says that Ani and Bryce had sex. He’s afraid to ask, but he _needs_ to know, must know if Bryce had lied to his face even in those last months leading to his death, and somehow manages to push the words out: 

“What, like, he raped her? Or, like, they had a thing?” 

“Either, I guess.” Clay’s as clueless as the fucking police, and it only gets worse when he says he’s not sure if he can trust Ani any more. For fuck’s sake, Clay believes in everybody. He trusted Tyler could get better after being this close to starting a mass-shooting at school, and months later, it seems that he’s finally seeing the light after the tunnel. 

It’s all a fucking mess. Even in death, Bryce has messed with everything and everybody. 

The list includes this room, sighs Justin, taking a good look around. Knowing how much more worried Clay’s parents will be if they see the state of the room, he leaves the bed and kneels on the floor to collect some of the scattered papers. 

“Come on, Clay,” he says, patting Clay’s leg--to make him move his leg from some papers and to get him to help out. 

“Seriously?” he scowls, albeit he does cross his legs to allow Justin collecting those forsaken papers. “You choose now to worry about the state of our room?” 

“Dude, look. There’s messy,” says Justin, pointing at his side of the room and bed, “and then there’s fucking-hurricane-Katrina-passed-through-here mess.” 

The comparison warrants Justin getting kicked on the foot by Clay, which just makes him laugh upon Clay’s ridiculous attempt at hurting him. With that, Clay sighs deeply and reaches out a hand for Justin to help him to his feet, and he obliges right away. 

“Word of advice: if you keep this up, no one will understand your jokes,” Clay says. 

“Noted,” Justin laughs again. “Guess you’re rubbing off on me, brother.” 

“Yeah, well, don’t learn too much from me.” 

“Stop wasting time, will you?” complains Justin, handing Clay the few papers he’d grabbed, for him to sort out if there’s anything salvageable out of the wreckage. Trying to distract him from such depressing thoughts, if only by cleaning the room. 

The two of them take a good look around, preparing for the cleaning spree ahead of them. They’re already terribly late for school as it is, it won’t matter if they take the time to clean this place up. For the next few minutes, they come and go from all over the room, with brooms and boxes to throw things away if necessary. They sort out amongst books, notebooks and other school supplies, comics, pictures, dishes, and the list of things Clay took out his rage on goes on and on. 

There is, however, another reason why Justin cannot stand the sight surrounding them, and that is the outburst of rage that filled Clay a few minutes ago. Albeit he understands him, Justin’s pissed off at what’s happened too, and won’t ever let Clay find himself in a position where he needs to procure himself a gun again. 

During his cleaning spree, Clay looks ashamed at his uncalled outburst and rage that broke dishes and lamps alike, and Justin works in silence, hoping it’ll be better than making light fun of it. He doesn’t mind about Clay breaking anything and the mess he caused, not really. There’s a simple explanation why he never cares much about dirty dishes, dirty clothes or books lying around everywhere in the room--the thing is, he’d never been taught to keep a room or a house clean, and had never possessed as many things as he owns now. Clay didn’t realize any of it and his carefree lifestyle warranted at least a daily fight at the beginning, until Clay gave up and just accepted the way his roommate slash brother was going to behave around the house. 

“Hey, listen,” Justin says as he hands him one last notebook. He’s attempting to maintain a very precarious peace around the house, being the least appropriate person to do so. “What your folks said back there. . . You know they worry about you. They’re scared, Clay, that’s all. You’re lucky they care so much about you and want the best for you.” 

“They seem to forget that I’m scared shitless, too,” scowls him, taking the notebook and throwing it into his backpack with way too energy. “They’re nearly as convinced about my innocence as that policeman--” 

“Oh, that’s not true!” scowls Justin. “Fuck that man.” 

“That’s the chief of police, and he seemed pretty convinced that I--” 

“Fuck him,” insists Justin. “He’s fucking clueless. Whatever he thinks they’ve got, he’s looking into the completely wrong person. And your parents, as soon as they get the chance to think it through, will see that, too. It’s just. . . They don’t get it. Everything that’s happened, what you had with Hannah--” 

“Exactly, they _don’t_ get it. And how could they?” Clay explodes. “They heard the tapes when they came out, sure, but you and I both know there’s so much more to the story. Hannah, Bryce, Ani, Tyler. . . How am I supposed to tell them about that?” 

“You’re not,” replies Justin hastily. “There’s never going to be a time or place for you to tell them about it all, and they’re your parents, it’s in their nature to worry. But you’re supposed to tell _me_ , man. _I’ve_ got your back. I’ll help you, always, no matter what, okay?” 

Shoulders dropped, Clay lets those words sink in for a minute. 

“No matter what,” he nods in the end. That’s the agreement they reached outside the police station, before heading home. To help and protect each other out--to provide alibies if necessary, even. _No matter what._

“You know, I think your folks would appreciate if you showed your ugly face at school today,” he says, handing Clay his backpack to get his point across. 

Clay grabs holds the backpack as if it were a three-month dead, smelly cat--proving how uninterested he is in going to school. 

“What? Planning a no-show today?” demands Justin. 

“Just great,” scowls Clay, strapping his backpack over his shoulder. “Let’s go to school so three hundred kids can prove how much they _don’t_ trust me and think I killed Bryce.” 

“Come on,” complains Justin, patting his shoulder in that non-verbal gesture meant to encourage and comfort each other. “There’s one person who won’t think that for a second.” 

Clay holds Justin’s gaze for a bit, moved, and then blinks a few times to clear the tears from his eyes. Justin remains silent just to make his case with more vehemence. He knows how afraid Clay must be after being interrogated by the police and his parents, how his confidence has been shattered in a million different ways since last night. What with him spending the whole morning in police custody, everyone at school will assume Clay had something to do with Bryce’s death. Everyone, maybe. Except for Justin. He’s the one Clay can count on. 

“Thanks, man,” Clay says, rubbing his nose and sniffling quietly. “It means a lot.” 

“Anytime,” says Justin. His heart does lift up a bit after seeing Clay cracking the briefest of smiles--it’s Justin’s faith and confidence in him that restores Clay’s own self-confidence, too. 

Justin points outside, to which Clay nods, proving he’s nowhere ready to go to school just yet, but will try. Between the two, they carry the box they’ve filled with broken dishes and lamps, until they make it to the sidewalk--Clay gets his keys to open the car, whereas Justin kneels to lay the box by the dumpsters. 

Through the windows, he sees Lainie looking out for him and Clay, anxiety and uncertainty clear in her eyes as she follows each of Clay’s movements. She doesn’t even pretend or try to hide her feelings when she crosses the eye with Justin, who waves goodbye at her. Behind Clay’s back, Justin forces a smile and nods at her, knowing it could never be enough for the woman. But then, against all odds, she puts on a smile, too, and Justin feels restored. Matt, Lainie, and especially Clay, have all considered and treated him as part of the family from the first minute, and Justin’s joyous whenever he can make it up for them, even a little, just like he did now. 

With that, he climbs into the car with Clay, throwing his school bag to the back seats. Clay drives off immediately, maybe because he caught his mother staring from the living room, and Justin sinks into the seat. 

Sensing Clay’s willingness to fill the silence this morning with small talk, stupid bantering, or homework, Justin reaches out to turn on the radio. He turns it off right away, for it was set on a news channel, and unless a third world war has been declared over the course of the morning, Clay doesn’t need any more bad news today. Yeah, silence is probably better--if only it wasn’t caused because he’s got nothing to say to encourage poor Jensen. 

Clay still hasn’t said a word by the time he parks the car in front of the school, kills the engine, and takes his seatbelt off, without meaning to get out. Justin doesn’t move from his seat nor pushes him, either, tapping on the leather seat, maybe as nervous as Clay himself. He knows exactly what Clay’s thinking and feeling. He went through it all not too long ago, right after he returned to school from his five-months absence and everyone knew what he'd been up to, apart from letting Jessica get raped by Bryce. 

“How can I go in there? Everyone thinks I’m a murderer,” he demands, addressing the building a murderous look. 

It’s not easy, Justin accepts, walking through those walls while everyone’s staring at you, and talks behind your back. For a time after Justin got back, he wondered if education was truly worth it. Of course, he never really thought about dropping out again, he couldn’t do that to Clay’s folks, and asking for a transfer was out of the question, too. 

He’s been in Clay’s shoes, and knows exactly what he needs right now, what could make it all go away. Justin can’t bite his tongue before suggesting the escape Clay so desperately wants. 

“Shall we just. . . Skip or something?” 

He’d push Clay out of the driving wheel and take him away from here, wherever he wanted, if he said the word. Even to another freaking town, just for a day. Someplace where no one knew them, knew what fucked-up lives they’ve been through, or how one of the people seated in this car is suspect of murder--the person who’s done drugs exactly once and who can get drunk on a single beer, incidentally, which makes no sense at all. Then again, the police did say Clay couldn’t get out of town. . . Well, maybe they could find a café far from school where they’d meet no students, teachers, neighbors, who knew anything about them, maybe--? 

“That seems like not a good idea, right?” 

But, of course, Clay’s the most punctual and law-abiding person one could find around here. If only the police knew that. . . It almost makes Justin laugh, if the situation weren’t so fucked up to begin with. Now that skipping isn’t a possibility, all that’s left for Justin to do is offer advice on how to survive this day. Difficult as it may be, Clay will get through it, just like Justin did back then, just like Jessica, and many other students have gone back to that hellish place after whatever shit they’ve been through. 

“You know, you just got to walk back in there like. . . Like you know the truth, and just fuck everybody else. It’s the only way.” 

Clay seems to fancy the part of fucking everybody else--seems to be the recurring theme around these walls and this town lately. After two seconds, Clay grabs his schoolbag and lays it on his lap. 

“Right,” he says, taking in a very deep breath of air. 

At last, he opens his door. Justin follows his suit and jumps out of the car to grab his schoolbag and join Clay on the way to school, hoping Clay gets the message that he does count on his brother’s support: either they do this together, or they don’t do this at all. Clay was there for him when he returned, and although they didn’t have the same bond they now share, having Clay to fall back on made all the difference. He’s just returning the favor, now. 

They walk up the steps and Justin stops right before entering the building, resting a hand on Clay’s shoulder to let him catch his breath. He needs to stop walking with his head dropped and erase that murderous intent on his eyes, but Justin knows better than to give those pieces of advice, for it won’t help him at all. 

“I’ll see you later, okay?” he says--not really a question, just the confirmation that, whatever happens in there, whatever people say behind his back or right to his face, Clay can count on Justin waiting for him after class, knowing Justin doesn’t suspect his alibi after the homecoming game, and will not judge him, either. 

Clay nods, barely looking at Justin. He’s just dreading everything and everyone he’ll meet once he walks past those doors, and he’s pretty sure he’s never been less ready to go to school and meet his classmates. 

“Sure,” he says, in that same tone he's used all morning in an attempt to show that he doesn't care what happens, but that deep down he _does_ care and is scared, probably jus as much as Justin is, for the consequences. Still, this isn't the time or place to keep on arguing about it. “See you later.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it !! Please let me know if there are more people who loved the Justin/Clay dynamic this season !  
> BTW--please check out my work 'Too Young To Have So Many Scars' as well, basically centric on Justin and the Jensen family adjusting to their new life, set during season 3 !!


End file.
